


these chains we forge

by DreamBrother



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Angst, Episode: s01e08 Mana'o (Belief), Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by A Christmas Carol, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:55:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26063836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreamBrother/pseuds/DreamBrother
Summary: "Do you remember when you had Five-O look into Meka's death, the night you strapped a guy to your car? I pissed you off because I thought the evidence was pointing at Meka being dirty and you walked out of the office because you thought your word wasn't good enough for me?"The investigation into Meka's death almost drove a permanent wedge between Steve and Danny in the early days of their partnership, had it not been for the interference of someone from Danny's past...A Christmas Carol-inspired AU written for the Hawaii Five-0 Big Bang 2020!
Relationships: Steve McGarrett/Danny "Danno" Williams
Comments: 25
Kudos: 129
Collections: H50 Big Bang 2020





	these chains we forge

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the Hawaii Five-O Big Bang 2020 (my first ever Big Bang!) and in honour of the challenge, this story is somewhat outside my comfort zone and different from my usual fare! Thank you to Millie for the beta-read, but all errors are mine and Grammarly's responsibility. 
> 
> The story is set just before 3x06, and the dates mentioned in the story match the original air date of the relevant episode. 
> 
> ***Content warning: canon-typical violence, temporary major character death, vomiting***
> 
> The amazing artwork was done by [Arandin](https://neko-roppi.tumblr.com/), and I couldn't have asked for a better artist for my first BB, and I hope you agree with me that their art for this fic is fantastic!

_“You are fettered," said Scrooge, trembling. "Tell me why?"_

_"I wear the chain I forged in life," replied the Ghost. "I made it link by link, and yard by yard; I girded it on of my own free will, and of my own free will I wore it._

Charles Dickens, ‘A Christmas Carol’

* * *

_October 2012_

“Ow, fuck, shit,” Danny exclaimed, the cardboard box he’d been trying to place on the top shelf in the cupboard in Steve’s guest bedroom slipping from his hold and falling to the ground, its contents spilling here, there, everywhere. “Motherfucker,” he added, as he looked at the photos which weren’t in albums spread far and wide upon impact with the wooden floor, some disappearing under the bed, others underneath the chest of drawers.

“And here I thought I was the sailor in this house,” Steve drawled as he leaned against the doorway to the room, a hint of a smirk on his face at the newfound discovery of Danny’s potty mouth.

“You’re going to be the _only_ one in this house if you don’t get your ass moving and help me with this,” Danny said with a grunt as he knelt on the ground, his bad knee protesting the contact with the hard floor as he began reaching for the photos closest to him, sorting them into a haphazard pile.

“Wow,” Steve muttered as he knelt a few feet away and began gathering the photos near him, following Danny’s lead.

“Wow what?”

“You’ve moved in with me all of what, two hours? And you’re already threatening to leave. Must be a record.”

“Treat ‘em mean, keep ‘em keen, as my mama always taught me,” Danny replied with a grin before reaching out and wrapping a hand around the back of Steve’s neck to pull him into a quick kiss. “Everyone gone?”

“Yeah, and I’ve put all the pizza boxes and beer bottles in the trash,” Steve replied, a slightly goofy smile on his face from the impromptu kiss.

“Still think it would have been cheaper to hire a van and do a few trips to get my stuff than feeding all of our friends as thanks.”

“Maybe, but that wouldn’t have been very ohana of us.”

“‘Very _ohana_ of us?” Danny was gathering steam for a rant on epic proportions regarding the linguistic difficulties too much sun, pineapple, spam, and aloha must have wrought on his partner’s fragile brain when he saw Steve’s face pale under his tan as he picked up a photo from the floor. “Babe?” When Steve didn’t respond, Danny reached out and scratched his nails gently on Steve’s scalp. “Steve?”

Steve looked up and met his eyes briefly before staring once again at the photo he held in his hand, and Danny’s curiosity made crawl forward until he was shoulder to shoulder with his partner, leaning his forearm on Steve’s shoulder so he could peek at the picture that was drawing all of Steve’s attention, a pit forming in his stomach as he recognized the image.

The photos that had fallen out of the box were of Danny’s life before Hawaii, pictures he’d seen fit to pack up and have shipped to Hawaii but never having had the time, space, or energy to unpack fully once he’d arrived and gotten started at HPD, they’d remained in the box they’d arrived in. Life had gotten better, no doubt, once he’d become part of Five-O, but he had become busier than ever - solving crimes, preventing his partner from yee-hawing his way into an early grave, and fighting with his ex for every moment with Grace had meant that he never got around to unpacking the final few boxes from the move. And then any energy that hadn't been spent on Grace or Five-O had been solely dedicated to Steve when they’d decided to direct their partnership to a more romantic direction, so the unpacked boxes from Jersey had completely fallen off of Danny’s radar. He couldn’t even remember that last time he’d even _touched_ this box until Steve finally managed to convince Danny to take their relationship to the next level by moving in, and here they were.

“She wasn’t an ex if that’s what you’re worried about,” Danny muttered as he pulled back a bit, his attempt to move away halted by Steve’s hand reaching out and gripping him lightly around the wrist. “What?”

“This isn’t me being jealous, Danno,” Steve said, squeezing Danny’s wrist lightly even as his focus remained on the photo, causing Danny to look at it again. “Who is she?”

Danny wasn’t sure why Steve was asking if he wasn’t jealous, not that there was anything in the photo to spark it. It was just a photo of Danny over ten years ago, his hair even wilder and blonder than it was now, dressed in an NJPD baseball jersey, his arm around a tall, beautiful woman also dressed similarly, both with matching smiles on their face, baseball bats on their shoulders.

“That’s uh, that’s Grace. Grace Tilwell.”

“You guys worked together?”

“Yeah, she was my partner at NJPD, long time ago,”

“She ever visit you here?”

“What? No. Will you just leave it? It’s just a photo,” Danny replied even as he gently twisted his wrist out of Steve’s grip and stood up, walking out of the room with his feet taking him downstairs to the kitchen even as his mind tried to focus on the mundane details of his surroundings to prevent the flood of memories trying to make their way to the forefront of his thoughts. He’d just pulled a beer out of the fridge when he heard Steve on the stairs and sighing, he pulled out a second and left it on the counter next to the fridge even as he moved away from it.

This wasn’t how he’d imagined his first night of cohabiting with Steve to go. He’d anticipated a lot more nudity, a lot less nostalgia - if it could be called nostalgia when the memories brought nothing but pain and regret.

“You’re upset,” Steve muttered a few minutes later as both men leaned against the counters on opposite sides of the kitchen, their beers halfway to empty.

“Congratulations, your eyes work. Too bad you can’t listen for shit.”

“You always lash out when you’re upset. Why are you so upset if it’s just a photo?”

“Why are you so obsessed with that photo?”

“I’ll tell you if you tell me first.”

“Fine,” Danny bit out even as he thunked the beer bottle down on the counter next to him, the clink echoing loudly in the otherwise quiet kitchen. “I’m upset because my partner’s getting himself worked up over a stupid photo of a woman who’s been dead for over ten years, okay? You happy now?” Steve did not look happy. If anything, he looked like he was seconds away from passing out and Danny’s anger fizzled slightly. “What’s wrong with you, what’s with that face?”

“When did she die?”

“Steve, what the fuck is the matter with you?”

“Danny, please. Just answer my question, I promise I’ll explain.”

“Fine. She died a few months before Gracie was born, okay? Now you wanna tell me what the fuck is going on?”

“I don’t think you’ll believe me.”

“Why wouldn't I believe you?”

“You’ll think I’m crazy but Danny, I swear to God, you have to listen to me very carefully okay?” The undercurrent of desperation in Steve's words, the wild look in his partner's eyes, was enough for Danny to walk towards Steve, his inner turmoil taking second place to his innate need to comfort Steve. As he stepped closer, he was surprised when Steve reached out and yanked him into an embrace, one strong arm wrapping around his lower back and the other around the back of his neck as Steve buried his face in the crook of Danny's neck.

Steve had come a long way in terms of initiating physical touch since they had both taken their relationship to the next level less than a year ago, but it was still rare for Steve to initiate a hug out of nowhere. Especially if he was upset, Steve was more likely to pull away than to reach out, with Danny having gone looking for Steve many times in the garage after a lover's squabble in the early days of their relationship. Rubbing his hands gently up and down Steve's back, Danny gave it a minute before he nudged Steve and asked: "You're freaking me out babe, you gotta tell me what's going through that head of yours."

Danny both felt and heard Steve swallow before he whispered: "I think I met Grace. Once. In Hawaii."

Danny tried to move back so he could look his partner in the eye but Steve's arms around his back and neck tightened, holding Danny firmly against him.

"It must have been someone who looked like her, Steve,” said Danny with a sigh, rubbing his knuckles along Steve’s spine. “Grace had never been further than Michigan her entire life."

"No, it was her, Danny, I swear. I know it sounds crazy."

"It doesn't sound crazy, babe, it _is_ crazy. And I don't want to talk about this anymore, let me go,” Danny demanded as he thumped his hands against Steve's sides, pulling himself back from Steve’s hold but not only did his partner’s arms tighten around him, Steve swung them around so that Danny was pressed against the kitchen counter. It was only the fact that he was surrounded by the scent and feel of his partner that prevented Danny's claustrophobia from kicking in, but it was a near thing.

"Danny, please,” Steve pulled back a bit, meeting Danny’s eyes and Danny frowned slightly at the desperation in his partner’s eyes. He was used to his partner always being cool and collected, especially when they were home and not on the job. Usually being pressed against the kitchen counter by his partner only happened when they got in the mood and the bedroom was too far away, not for any other reason. “I'll explain, but I need you to listen to me fully, no interruptions, okay? I know how what I tell you will sound like, but I need you to trust me, just for a little bit, just until I finish. Okay?"

"Fine,” Danny bit out, moving his hands away from Steve for a moment to heave himself up onto the kitchen counter, his new position bringing him up to eye-level with his partner. He had a feeling this wasn’t going to be a short story, not if Steve wanted to come out of this looking sane. “Explain away,” he added, not liking the relief in Steve’s eyes at being given the opportunity. Did Steve _really_ think Danny would ignore him, especially when he had that look on his face?

His partner pressed forward, coming to stand between Danny’s legs, his hands on Danny’s thighs. Taking a deep breath after pressing a light kiss to Danny’s lips, Steve began:

"Do you remember when you had Five-O look into Meka's death, the night you strapped a guy to your car? I pissed you off because I thought the evidence was pointing at Meka being dirty and you walked out of the office because you thought your word wasn't good enough for me?"

* * *

_November 2010_

At the same time that Chin slid onto the barstool next to Danny and commiserated with him about the laser-eyed focus shared by the McGarrett men that often made them blind to the validity of other possibilities, Steve walked through the doorway of a different bar.

Although he had left Oahu many years before he hit legal drinking age, by the time he returned on shore leaves every so often as an adult he had barely any friends left from his time in middle school to hit Oahu's best bars with, and he and his dad had never been close enough to go out drinking together. But leading Five-O these past few months Steve had gone out with his team many times on a Friday night, or at the end of a big case, but they tended to go to nicer joints than this.

This was the kind of bar that tourists didn't go to. It was clean, it was legal, but it had no frills. It also wasn't a bar frequented by cops, which was the second reason Steve had picked it as tonight’s venue. Being here wouldn’t result in reports flying around HPD in the morning of the reckless leader of Five-O getting smashed in a random bar, drinking by himself until the cab he had booked to pick him up in an hour’s time came to take him home. To an empty house.

Sliding into a barstool at the far corner of the bar, well away from the other patrons, Steve nodded to the bartender and moments later had an open bottle of Longboard in his hands. He kept his focus on the muted television in the corner as he steadily sipped his way through the bottle, his mind deliberately blank even as the Lakers pulverized the Detroit Pistons on screen.

It was only when he was halfway through the second bottle that he allowed himself to think back to the events that had led him to a random bar, alone, on a work night whilst Five-O were still in the middle of an active investigation, especially one involving the murder of a cop, even if Steve was more and more convinced that the man had gotten himself mixed up people on the wrong side of the law.

When Danny had called him early that morning, Steve had thought it would be for a simple reason such as he was going to be late coming in as he had to drop Grace off at school last minute. Except it was for a completely different reason - he was asking Five-O to investigate the murder of Meka Hanamoa. In other words, Danny's partner before Steve had essentially forced the Governor to appoint Danny to Five-O and as his partner three months ago without so much as a by-your-leave.

At first, stealing Danny from HPD had seemed like the most logical move - Steve needed to track down Hesse before he left the island so time was of the essence, and what better way to achieve his aim than to recruit the guy who had been working his dad's case and had made the connection to Fred Doran? Besides, as a fresh arrival to the island, he knew Danny wouldn't have had time to get corrupted by any traitors in the department, not when he'd come all this way to follow his daughter. Steve had been impressed when he'd read through Danny's file of his time with NJPD and his assistance would have been a mere means to an end. When he'd asked for Danny, he hadn't given a moment's thought to the man's current partner; whether he was a good cop, whether he and Danny were friends, whether he was breaking up a well-established partnership with his interference. Steve's mind was solely focused on apprehending Victor Hesse - everything and almost everyone else was irrelevant in comparison, and even the creation of Five-O was a tool to be used to achieve his final aim.

Except Steve had ended up keeping Five-O going even after closing his father's case, and Danny had remained his partner. From the start they'd clashed, and whilst it had knocked hard against Steve's military habits of needing there to be an inviolable chain of command, an obvious superior commanding officer in every team whose words were gospel, whose commands were followed to the letter with no backchat, Steve had almost… enjoyed it? From the first day when Danny had punched him in the face he had respected the man and his opinions and had known that for all of Danny's talk and complaining, the blond man had covered Steve's back as effectively as any SEAL that Steve had worked with. So he'd assumed that he and Danny would be fine as partners.

But then this case. Danny ignoring the evidence. Danny letting his emotions cloud his objectivity. Steve snorted as he remembered Danny, Mr. Procedure himself, throwing the rule book out the window and tying the art dealer to the hood of his car to pressure him into talking. Steve hadn't been kidding when’d he said he wanted a free pass the next time he did something like that. He also hadn't been joking when he'd said to Danny that he would hate to work with a hothead and it seemed like maybe it hadn't been a joke after all. Maybe Danny was too emotional and biased to be Steve's partner.

Steve took an extra-long sip of his beer, the liquid doing nothing to quell the burning sensation in his chest at the thought that maybe he and Danny weren't suited to be partners, that this may quite possibly be the last case they'd work on together. Would Danny even stay part of Five-O if Steve stopped pairing up with him? Could Steve even allow Danny to continue working with the team if he couldn't be objective? Chin was a seasoned cop, trained by Steve’s father, but Kono was a rookie and it was his duty as her boss to make sure that she was mentored by the best, and if his own partner couldn’t control his own feelings and remain objective when investigating a case, then it was setting a bad example for their newbie. Except it was the seasoned detective who’d followed Danny out of the office, and the rookie who’d seemed to side with Steve...

Digging into his pocket, he pulled out his phone and thumbed at the screen, telling himself he wasn't disappointed to see zero messages from Danny. If Steve had needed to take time to cool out, then his emotionally volatile partner would definitely need longer than a drink or two. From the corner of his eye, he noted the door to the bar open and a person entered, walking behind and around him till they were on his left. He bit down on a sigh when the person took the seat on the bend of the L, right next to him. The bar wasn't busy, there were plenty of seats. Wasn't it obvious he wanted some space?

Putting his phone back in his pocket, Steve leaned his elbows on the bar as he took another sip of his beer, raising a finger to get the bartender's attention.

"Double whiskey, straight," he ordered when the bartender made eye contact. He was a sailor, he was in the best physical shape of his life, he could handle his booze. He needed more than just beer tonight.

"Make that two," said a voice from his left, causing Steve to finally glance at the person who had sat next to him.

She was a beautiful woman, long dark brown curls framing her delicate face, wearing a yellow dress that was too nice for the beach but not too nice for a bar such as this, the formality of her wardrobe gentled by the denim jacket covering her shoulders. She didn't have the air of a tourist, nor the worn and weary-with-life look about her, unlike most of the patrons of this bar.

"You look like you've had a long day.”

Steve sighed internally. One of the main reasons he'd chosen this particular bar was because it was unlikely to be populated by tourists, or single women hoping to get picked up, or do the picking, and based on the east coast accent he could detect in the few words spoken to him, there was a good chance this woman wasn't a local. Maybe she didn't realize this wasn't that type of bar. But the manners ingrained in him by his parents and the Navy meant he couldn't ignore the woman, no matter how much he just wanted to drink in peace.

"I've had better," he replied as he took a sip of the whiskey placed in front of him, hoping his lack of eye contact and toneless voice would be enough of a hint to the woman he wasn't interested.

"Having an argument with your partner can do that to you,” the woman commented, causing Steve to jerk his head up and look at the stranger in a new light.

“How-”

“I’m a cop, I read people for a living,” she replied, an open smile on her face and Steve didn’t get the sense that she was lying. “You’re alone, sitting in the corner of a bar that’s the go-to for middle-aged men looking to escape without hookers or tourists badgering them when you’re a young man in the prime of life and fitness, looking like someone took your dog away from you. That means either job troubles, love life troubles, or both. You’ve got a badge on your hip so I figured if I said partner I’d cover both bases.” She took a sip of her whiskey, maintaining eye contact with Steve. “How’d I do?”

Steve half-smiled, drawn into the conversation despite his initial reservations. “Pretty good, I’ll give you that. Job partner. I’d offer you a role on my team except I get the feeling that you’re not from around here.”

“What gave me away?” She replied with a smirk, thickening her accent deliberately for a moment. “I’m Grace.”

“Steve,” he replied, tilting his glass up in hello. “What brings you out to Hawaii, Grace?”

“I’m helping out a very good friend of mine. We used to work together back east but he moved out here a few months ago, and he’s struggling to settle in.”

“You’d think this place being the closest thing to paradise would smooth the transition,” Steve replied, taking a long sip, enjoying the burn even as his mind reminded him of one of Danny’s many rants about the island. Clearly his partner wasn’t the only one who didn’t see Hawaii as the culmination of all his geographic dreams come true.

“You’d think. But he’s always been a skyscraper and cement boy at heart,” Grace replied. “But it’s not the location he’s struggling with.”

“No?” Steve asked just to be polite, his mind once again turning to just over an hour ago, Danny walking out of the office claiming he didn’t know what he was doing there if his word wasn’t good enough. He was half-tempted to ask Grace to tell him who her friend was so he could introduce Danny to them so they could bitch about the islands together, but that wouldn’t quite mesh with his ultimate plan to get Danny to fall in love with Steve’s home.

“No, he’s struggling at work. He doesn’t do well when he feels he’s not trusted by the people who are supposed to have his back.”

Steve jerked his eyes back to Grace, his instincts flaring at her words. “What did you just say?”

“How about this?” Grace said instead, looking unperturbed despite the hardened expression on Steve’s face. “You help me, and I’ll help you - deal?” Her hand reached over and covered Steve’s hand where it rested on the bar, curled around his drink. The moment her hand made contact, Steve couldn’t help but close his eyes as vertigo overtook his senses, making him think he was going to fall back off his stool as he lost his hold on gravity.

But no fall came.

Steve blinked, his eyes widening as he took in his new surroundings. Gone were the walls of the bar, the patrons no longer surrounding him. It wasn’t even evening anymore and Steve’s hand rose to shield his eyes from the rays of sunlight filtering in through the thick canopy of trees overhead, the daylight sharp and piercing after the relative darkness of the bar.

Because he was in a motherfucking forest.

Steve's hand went up to the back of his head, trying to feel for any wounds or dried blood to indicate whether someone had clocked him on the back of his head, caused the memory loss, caused his sudden relocation from where he'd been to where he was now. The last thing he remembered was being in the bar, talking to a stranger. Had she drugged him? Slipped something into his drink? Or had something happened between then and now, and the night in the bar was his last proper memory? But his head felt completely fine, and he didn’t even have a twinge of a headache to suggest what had gone wrong.

Steve spun around on the spot, trying to gauge where he was, jerking slightly when he saw the woman from the bar standing behind him, the yellow dress looking out of place in their new surroundings. The calm expression on her face ignited his fury, fueled by his fear.

"Who the fuck are you? Where am I? You drugged me, didn't you?" His anger only increased as Grace put a finger up to her lips, motioning for silence. He would not be silenced. "Why am I here? Where are we? Why don't I remember anything?"

"We need to get off the road, Steve. You'll see why you're here soon."

Steve had absolutely no fucking intention of moving from his spot until he had some fucking answers yet a blink of an eye later he was elsewhere. He could feel something solid underneath his feet, but not the forest floor; it was dark, and as he stumbled back his back met something hard and unyielding. Blinking, he turned to the sliver of light coming through from somewhere to his left but before he could say anything a body moved in front of the light, the muzzle of an automatic weapon poking through as a hand reaching out to grab the bottom of what was now recognizable as a tarpaulin.

Steve tensed, ready to attack if this person was a threat, hoping the element of surprise would make up for the fact that he was unarmed, except his eyes widened when the tarp was pulled up to reveal the face and body of his partner, dressed in a black shirt and a bulletproof vest.

"Hey, it's Steve! I've got Steve, he's alive!" His partner yelled out to someone that Steve couldn’t see even as he scrambled over to where Steve was, enough light filtering in for him to recognize that he was in the back of a truck.

"Danny," breathed Steve, a weight leaving his body at the sight of his partner. Danny was here, he'd explain what was going on, why Steve couldn't remember whatever had led him to this place when the last thing he remembered was Danny storming out of Five-O and Steve storming into a bar.

His relief faded as his partner didn't even _look_ his way, instead clambering into the back of the truck and moving past Steve who turned to see what had grabbed his partner's attention only to have the breath leave his body and his knees almost buckle under him.

Because Danny hadn't ignored Steve. Because Danny was untying the rope from around the hands of someone who looked _exactly_ like Steve, albeit covered in dirt and blood.

He was looking at himself.

"Wha-" he stumbled, back pressing against the side of the truck as he watched _himself_ look at Danny as though he couldn't believe his eyes. That made two of them.

"Just watch," Grace said from next to him, her sudden appearance not enough to break his focus from what was happening in front of his eyes.

"Danny," his other self rasped, his eyes still fixed on his partner. "Where's Wo Fat?"

"Who the fuck is Wo Fat?" He asked out loud, confusion growing as he continued to be ignored.

"Just shut up, would ya?" Danny muttered, not looking at either Steve. Any further comment was prevented by other faces appearing at the opening of the truck, Chin and even Joe White. Steve could only watch open-mouthed as his mentor and training officer helped his other self climb down out of the truck, Danny and Chin watching his back. He hadn't even mentioned the man, let alone introduced him to his Five-O teammates, yet here they were, working together.

Not wanting to be left behind, Steve scrambled after the departing group, jogging to keep up, and even though he was in their eye line, they paid no attention to him. He could only observe as they broke cover from the treeline to a clearing where a chopper that had seen better days waited for them, a blonde woman he didn’t recognize running out and hugging the other him even as Chin and Danny kept supporting his weight.

"Hate to break up this family reunion but we've gotta go, now!" Steve turned to look at the man who’d yelled out, surprised when what seemed like an entire SEAL team clambered on board the chopper. They’d all come to rescue him? From what? And if Joe and a SEAL team were here, why was Five-O?

Steve watched as Joe pulled the other him into the chopper by grabbing him under the arms, Chin and Danny following close behind. Steve made to clamber aboard as well, and although he had no clue what was going on there was no way was he going to be left behind in a forest he had no memory of getting there, leaving aside the fact that his _clone_ was right there and he himself was seemingly invisible to Joe and Chin and even Danny.

"Steve, let them go." He tensed at the sound of Grace’s voice behind him, but he ignored her. Whether this was a dream or a hallucination or a mental breakdown, he still wasn't gonna be left behind. Except for no matter how hard he tried, his feet felt cemented to the ground, his legs paying no attention to the commands his brain was sending, and he could only watch open-mouthed as the helicopter lifted off and within seconds became a dot in the sky, the sound of the whirring propellor blades fading even as Steve’s panic skyrocketed..

Where the hell was he? What was this?

It didn't have the feel of a dream. He pinched his forearm, hard, but that did nothing except cause a spark of pain, He began feeling his head again, trying to see if there were any bumps he’d missed in his initial harried exploration to explain his loss of memory or his break from reality because even if it _was_ the case of amnesia, it didn't explain how he saw his exact body double in front of him, and how he was invisible to everyone else.

Had he gotten so drunk that this was some weird alcohol-induced dream? But it felt so real. Desperate, he began looking at his arms to see if he could see any needle marks to suggest drugs, but his search yielded nothing, his skin bare and unmarked.

"Where am I?" He whispered as he felt a hand come to rest on his shoulder. "What's going on?"

"We’re in North Korea,” Grace replied, her words only adding to Steve’s confusion. “Come on, you have more to see."

Steve blinked and once more opened his eyes to find he was in a completely different place. The grass beneath his feet, the open sky above his head and a rainforest behind him had been replaced by tiled floor, fluorescent lights and the corridor of a military building, identifiable by the lack of decor or design, everything functional and to the point.

"Wha-." Steve spun around in place, trying to see if he could spot anything to give away his location except there was nothing and no-one, just him and Grace. "This has to be a dream."

"Does it matter what it is? You have to go in there," Grace replied, pointing towards the door next to him.

"Why? What's in there?"

"Something for you to see. Go on," she repeated, her eyes sympathetic but unyielding, an expression he was already tired of despite barely knowing the other woman

Seeing as there was nothing to be gained from standing in an empty hallway with a stranger who refused to answer his questions, Steve quietly opened the door, slowly easing it open just in case, except nothing hindered his entrance and he stepped through, closing the door behind him.

The room was a medical bay, a couple of beds spread out with a woman in a military nurse’s uniform moving an IV stand out of the way as she refilled boxes with packets of gauze on a shelf between two beds. It only took a moment for Steve to notice that the bed at the far end of the room was occupied and his heart gave a thump as he recognized the form of his partner, dressed in a grey sweater of all things, seated on a stool next to the occupied bed, his elbows on his knees. Although the face of the person on the bed was heavily bruised, at least the side that Steve could see from his vantage point, he knew that it was his body on the bed.

Creeping forward slowly, his presence unacknowledged by the nurse who walked by him without even a glance in his direction, he knew that once again he was by all accounts invisible. He walked over until he stood at the foot of the bed which allowed him an unobstructed view of his own self. Covered in bruises, his left eye swollen shut and his arm in a sling with an IV feeding liquid into his veins, he looked like shit, if he was being perfectly honest with himself. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been in such bad shape, and he wasn't sure what he was doing on a military base, dressed in khaki. This wasn't Tripler, and even if his surroundings didn't confirm that he wasn't in Hawaii, the jumper his partner was wearing sure did. Even if he’d been reactivated as a SEAL considering he was still a part of the Reserves, it didn’t explain why his partner was sitting next to him.

His partner, whose hair was a darker blond than the last time he'd seen him, with a few more wrinkles around his eyes than Steve was used to.

He was about to speak up, to see if maybe he could break through whatever barrier that had people failing to see him, to get his partner to notice him, because if this was his dream, he was in control, right? But his other self clearly had other ideas as he stirred in bed, coming awake with a slight jerk as his eyes opened a sliver to case his surroundings.

“Hey," Danny said softly as he too realized that Steve was awake.

“Danny?” Steve hated the tone of his voice, his confusion and surprise evident to anyone, although he was glad it was only Danny in hearing range.

“Yeah, I'm right here." He saw Danny reach out slightly but his hand fell short before it could make contact with Steve. "You all right?”

“Where's Catherine? Is she all right?”

“Relax. Hey.” Danny’s voice was soft, using a tone that Steve had only heard him use with Grace and children he’d interacted with on cases. It had never been directed his way before, and he shuffled his feet slightly at the weird feeling it invoked in his chest. “I spoke to her when she called me about you, and we got disconnected. I tried her back a couple of times, it didn't go through." Danny looked up at the sound of the door opening, both Steve’s following his gaze as four men walked in, the pair dressed in military wear taking up guard position by the door as two others walked towards the bed, the air of men who hadn't seen live combat in years, evident in their body and their face.

"CIA. Hear me?" Danny whispered to Steve before tilting his face up as he was addressed.

“You're gonna need to step outside," ordered the man on the left, his eyes fixed on Danny, and Steve took an involuntary step forward at the tone the man used on his partner except no one paid attention to him.

Not that it seemed that his partner needed his help in standing his ground to obvious authority.

“No, no, no. I'm gonna stay right here with him,” Danny replied, making no motion to get up at all.

“Excuse me?”

“I'm not a soldier; you don't have any authority over me." Danny's voice was level, no tone of argument or challenge because he was making it clear that there was no debate to even be had on whether he was leaving his partner’s side or not. Both Steve and his other self struggled to suppress a smirk at the sour-faced look on the CIA man who clearly had not anticipated such an open challenge to his authority. For all that Steve wished sometimes that his partner was more amenable to the chain of command, especially Steve's command, it nonetheless never failed to impress Steve that Danny could be so confident in himself and his ability to stand his ground when he felt he was in the right. It was one of the many things about his partner that he both admired but which drove him slightly insane at the same time. It was a contradiction he was still wrapping his head around, and one that drove him to want to spend time with Danny outside the office so he could get a chance of figuring the other man out.

"So I'm gonna stay put," Danny added, and stay put he did even as the two men threatened the Steve in the bed with prison time if he didn't share the source of his intel and his reply of short term memory loss garnered him nothing but the promise that if he returned to this 'part of the world', he'd be thrown in the brig. Finishing with the command that he and Danny return to the United States, the CIA agents exited the room, leaving the two masters-at-arms who would be their escorts behind to keep an eye on them.

Except it seemed Steve was in a rush to be elsewhere because he began pulling on the IV in his arm, undeterred by Danny grabbing him by the wrist.

“Take this out of my arm," he heard himself say.

“Whoa, what are you doing? Will you relax?” Danny responded even as he kept his grip firm on Steve’s arm.

“I can't leave Catherine out there by herself.”

“O-Okay. Well, stop, please, okay?” Danny’s other hand started moving about in agitation even as he kept a grim on Steve’s arm. “Listen, you heard what the guy said. He'll put you in jail. We don't need that. All right? Catherine's a big girl, she can take care of herself. Put your head down, relax. Okay? Okay? Please? Good." Danny exhaled loudly and looked down for a moment except it wasn't long enough for Steve's injured self to wipe the look on his face before he embarrassed them both, except Danny saw it and obviously his partner wasn't gonna let it go because he asked: "What are you looking at me like that for?”

Even Steve was curious to know what precisely had put that look on his face, battered and swollen as it was. It wasn't a look he was used to seeing on himself.

“I can't believe you flew all this way," his other self whispered, surprise evident in his voice and the tone and words caused Steve's stomach to turn over on itself. The clues were there to be seen, and although he couldn't tell exactly for sure, he would be willing to bet money that he and Danny were either in Iraq or in Afghanistan. His money was on the latter because as far as he knew, Catherine hadn’t had any dealings in Iraq, most of her work focused in Afghanistan.

He couldn't believe Danny, a cop from New Jersey who had a daughter to look out for, had flown all this way, and to _Afghanistan,_ just for Steve who had clearly bitten off more than he could chew if it had meant Danny had seen fit to fly to an _active warzone_ for his partner.

“I had to make sure you were okay," Danny confirmed what Steve had already guessed, his face open and sincere even as the two men continued staring at each other before Danny broke the tension with a much-welcomed quip: "Plus, you owe me $500 from that poker game." It caused both Steve's to laugh, although one was underscored with pain. "Alright. Glad you find that funny."

“Thanks, Danny," Steve heard himself say, glad that the sincerity in his voice was clear and he didn't take the easy way out that Danny offered with the joke. Not when it seemed that Steve had gone on an op with Catherine but from what little he had heard it seemed it had gone sideways, with Catherine calling Danny who had come running to the rescue and stayed by his side throughout. There was no way Steve could let that pass without showing his gratitude, even if his words were a pale shadow of the sheer awe and appreciation he felt.

It was clear that Danny also appreciated it, because his shoulders released some of their tension.

“You're welcome. Just cool out, we'll go home. Alright?”

Home. Danny had just called Hawaii home. Now he knew this was a dream. Except…

"I'm not dreaming, am I?" He said out loud as he felt a presence behind him, his eyes remaining fixed on Danny as his partner continued to mutter something under his breath that was resulting in pained laughs from his injured self to break the solemn atmosphere.

"No, you're not," Grace quietly confirmed, her yellow dress a bright spark in an otherwise drab environment.

"And I haven't lost my mind?"

"No."

"But is this real?" It felt real, to Steve, as far as something could be real if it was set in a different time and place.

"It could be. It depends."

"On what?" Because no matter how much it warmed him to see Danny fetch him from an op gone wrong in North Korea and Afghanistan, he also couldn’t suppress the anger he felt at his partner. How could Danny be such an idiot and risk himself in this way when he had a daughter to think of? And how stupid was Steve that he needed a cop from New Jersey to save his ass from a war-zone when Danny had a fraction of the training Steve had working in high-risk countries? So if there was a way Steve could prevent this from happening, he would do anything to ensure it.

"On you. Come on. There is more to see."

This time, Steve expected the change of scenery that came with the blink of an eye but what he didn't anticipate was the sound of the propeller blades that were visible through the small window to his left.

A glance around and he realized he was sitting in a small aircraft, an Asian man next to him who was speaking to the pilot, completely unaware of Steve’s presence.

"Come on, Raintree, tell me the truth: when you were flying those commercial buses, how many times you fall asleep on the job, huh?”

“You give a man a hot meal, a comfy chair, an autopilot… I defy anyone not to take a nap.” Steve didn’t need the pilot to turn around to recognize that it was him, albeit one with more lines around his eyes than he was used to seeing in the mirror. Familiar with the back of his partner’s head, Steve could recognize that the co-pilot was Danny, sitting to the right of his older self, content to let Steve speak.

“Man, I knew it!” The man said, almost bouncing in his seat.

“Yeah, I like flying, buddy. That's why I like this. Less sleeping, more piloting. I don't miss the heavies,” Steve heard himself say. Glancing behind him, Steve made note of the cargo, the pink packages clearly containing illegal drugs that were being transported somewhere.

“Except maybe the flight attendants.”

“Yeah, I miss them,” Steve replied, a smirk evident in his voice, and the chatter descended to a discussion about Swissair and their flight attendants which had Steve wondering why Grace had brought him here to this moment when Danny interrupted, his words causing a feeling of dread to creep into Steve’s heart.

“We got a bogey at eight o'clock,” Danny warned.

“Yeah, I got him,” Steve heard himself say in the same moment that he noted the black helicopter coming their way, the lack of markings on the aircraft which could never mean anything good, his instinct proven right when the helicopter door slid open to reveal a man wielding heavy weaponry.

“Down!” He yelled out as the man started shooting, Steve throwing his body forward in the gap between the pilot and co-pilot even though he knew that if he couldn’t be seen, he highly doubted he’d be able to block any bullets flying towards his partner - but he tried anyway.

He knew something had gone badly wrong when he felt the plane start to dip, and he pulled back, relieved to see no blood on Danny. But he wasn’t prepared for the devastation on his partner’s face when he reached out and pulled his older self back from where he was slumped over the controls, only to reveal blood pouring from his stomach and arm.

Even Steve could see how pale he’d gotten and just how bad this was.

His suspicions that this was an undercover op were unconfirmed when Danny had to reveal his identity to the man next to Steve, and he fully agreed with his half-conscious self that Danny should just shoot the guy who was holding a gun on him. Nonetheless, he admired Danny’s focus and calm as he took control of the plane despite having a gun pointed at his head and his partner bleeding out next to him. As far as he knew from the few months he had known Danny, the Jerseyman had no experience piloting an airplane and he couldn’t help but be impressed when his partner began to pilot the aircraft towards the airport with just verbal instructions from ATC to guide him.

He was less impressed with Danny when his partner refused to listen to ATC’s advice to ditch the plane in the water when it was discovered the plane’s fuel tanks had been hit and it was unlikely that the craft would be able to make it to the airport on its current fuel reserves.

“Detective, based on your current altitude, airspeed, and available fuel, you're never gonna make the runway,” the ATC man argued. “You’re gonna have to put her down on the water.”

“Alright, uh, that's not gonna work, okay? My partner, he's...he's unconscious. If I put this thing down on the water, I'm not gonna be able to get him out of the plane and he's gonna drown,” Danny replied.

Fury enveloped Steve and at the same time as ATC he yelled: “You don’t have a choice!” His hand reached out and grabbed Danny’s shoulder, as though by physical touch alone he could convey to Danny the idiocy of his decision.

Except Danny wasn’t listening to him, or to Air Traffic Control. He gave no indication that he could feel Steve’s hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I-I-I got a choice. I-I'm gonna put this thing down on the beach, okay?” Danny responded, as though he was speaking to Steve, even though Steve knew he hadn't been heard, his older self useless and unconscious in the pilot’s seat, unaware of the danger Danny was placing himself in.

“Detective, we strongly advise against that. I understand your concern for your friend,

but consider yourself. Your best chance of survival is a water landing,” the man on the other side of the radio tried again and Steve gave him props for trying to convince his idiot of a partner but unlike that man, he could see the expression on Danny’s face, and it was the same stubborn look he had when he was insisting to Steve that his partner, Meka, was innocent, even though the evidence pointed otherwise. Once again, Danny seemed to be ignoring the evidence staring him in the face - it only took a glance at Steve’s body in the pilot’s seat for anyone to realize that water landing or not, Steve was not going to survive this.

It should have made him feel strange, seeing him essentially stare his own death in the face, but Steve could only focus on one thing, and that was ensuring his idiot of a partner didn’t hero himself into a premature grave right next to Steve’s.

“Danny, don’t be a fucking idiot, land in the water. Now!” He yelled, hoping volume might break through whatever barrier that kept him invisible to his partner.

“Listen, I'm not gonna put it down in the water. I'm putting this thing down on the beach, okay?” Danny repeated, his words a reply to both ATC and Steve. “Clear the beach, I'm coming in.”

Desperate, Steve looked around and spotted Grace sitting on the cargo, cross-legged and passive-faced as she watched what was happening.

“You! You’ve gotta do something, please!” Steve begged, reaching out and grabbing her by the wrist.

“There’s nothing we can do, Steve, we can only watch,” she replied.

“What use are you,” Steve spat out in fury, turning around and bringing his face close to Danny’s ear.

“Danno, listen to me, you gotta land on the water okay? Look at me, I’m not gonna survive even if you manage to land on the beach, okay? Save yourself, think of Gracie,” Steve pleaded, even as his words continued to fall on deaf ears.

The perp next to him clearly agreed, as he too tried to convince Danny of the foolishness of his plan albeit with a more selfish motivation: “You’re gonna kill all of us!”

“Shut up, shut up!” Danny yelled. “Hey Steve, listen to me.” Steve jerked in surprise at being spoken to, except Danny wasn’t looking at him, his focus instead on his partner’s unconscious body. “I know you've never been any good at listening to me, but right now, you got no choice, you stubborn son of a bitch. Do not die. Hey! Listen to me, do not die, okay? I'm not landing this thing for you to die on me! You understand? Huh?”

“Okay, Danno,” Steve whispered, humbled, even though he couldn’t be heard but it seemed enough for Danny who rolled his shoulders and turned back to the cockpit window, his eyes focused on the stretch of beach that would very soon be either their landing strip or where they crashed and burned.

“Good, all right, here we go,” Danny replied, a look of pure focus on his face as he followed the instructions over the radio. Even though he knew Danny couldn’t feel him, Steve reached out and laid his hand on Danny’s shoulder, hoping and praying that he wasn’t about to witness the death of a man who he had become inordinately fond of in too short a time.

By some miracle, Danny managed to land the plane without killing them all. As his body was being pulled out of the smoking wreckage of the plane by Chin and a tall black man that Steve didn’t recognize except he could see the Five-O insignia on his vest, Steve turned to Grace.

“Now what?” He asked, hoping this was all Grace wanted to show him.

“There’s more to see. Stay with him,” she replied, nodding at Danny who had clambered unassisted out of the wreckage of the plane, his arm pressed against his chest, cradling what Steve assumed were at least a few broken ribs - that landing had not been gentle, for all that it was a miracle that Danny had survived.

Needing no further instruction, Steve followed his partner as he stayed by Steve’s side in the ambulance, as he watched silently as the EMT’s tried their best to keep Steve alive long enough to get to the hospital. In his heart, he knew that there was no coming back from the wounds that covered his body; far too much blood had pooled under his feet in the plane, the grey pallor and colorless lips clear indications that Steve had come to the end of the line.

Uncomfortable at the feeling that looking at his half-dead body aroused in him, Steve focused on his partner, except he was surprised at the level of emotion he could read in the other man. For all that this hallucination or whatever it was was set in the future, it still took his breath away to see the grief and upset in Danny’s eyes even as his face gave nothing away.

Maybe Grace wanted him to see how Danny would react to his death? But to what end?

Soon enough they were in the hospital, Danny unable to follow Steve’s gurney any further as it was taken into the ER. Except instead of going to get checked out, despite a nurse approaching him, despite Chin and Kono and the other man with them trying to stop Danny from walking out of the hospital, Danny was undeterred in his mission.

Drawn to where Danny was, Steve could only watch in silence as Danny went from Five-O offices where he interrogated the man from the airplane to get an address to then following him as he conducted a raid on a warehouse with the rest of Five-O and HPD backup. He watched with a mix of horror and admiration as Danny took down the man from the helicopter who’d shot at the plane and shot Steve, saw the moment where Danny grappled with the desire to kill the man even as he goaded Danny to end his life, unarmed though he now was.

“Don’t do it, Danno. He’s not worth it, I’m not worth it,” Steve whispered as he saw Danny struggle with his own morals and duty as a policeman and his desire to avenge his partner. He saw the moment when Danny’s better nature won, a victory Steve wasn’t sure he could have achieved had he been in his partner’s shoes, if Danny had been the one in hospital, dying from multiple bullet wounds, and the man who had shot him lying unarmed at his feet,

His relief that Danny didn’t kill the man was short-lived because soon enough they were back at the hospital, and he had to listen as the surgeon told Danny and the team that Steve’s liver was irreparably damaged, and he’d die without a transplant soon. Even though he was essentially listening to the cause of his death, Steve’s heart warmed as his team immediately offered to get checked out to see if they could be a donor.

The iota of hurt he’d felt when Danny hadn’t said anything was soon replaced with horror at Danny’s interjection:

“Let me, um, just save everybody some time. Uh, Steve and I are the same blood type. Um, so just-- let's use mine.”

“Danny, no,” Steve demanded, his hand reaching for Danny except no matter how hard he gripped, his hold didn’t have an impact on his partner as he continued to be ignored. “That’s a high-risk surgery, you can’t do this, you have Gracie to think about,” Steve persisted, even as Danny broke away from his grip without realizing, following the doctor down the corridor.

He made to keep after Danny except a hand gripped his wrist and he whirled in place to see the rest of Five-O gone, and Grace in their place.

“Either let me go or help me stop this insanity,” Steve demanded through gritted teeth.

“There’s nothing we can do, Steve,” Grace replied as she kept a hold of his wrist, her hold solid and unbreakable. “We can only see.”

“And _what_ are you making me _see_? Danny saving my ass time after time? Is that it? Is this because I pushed him about the Meka case, and now I’m drunk and picturing him as this hero partner who I should keep around because I’ll need him for his fucking _liver_ one day?” Steve argued, his mind spinning as he tried to spot the pattern between the events he had just witnessed, all three involving Danny saving him in one way or another.

“You think you’re seeing what you need to, but you’re still blind,” Grace replied, her head shaking. “Come on.”

“No, I need to see if Danny’s alrig-,” Steve protested except he blinked and he was no longer in the hospital corridor. “For fucks sake, take me ba-.” Steve’s threats went unfinished as for the first time in all this madness, he recognized where he was.

“Why are we here?” He demanded to know, as he looked around confirming that he was indeed in the same place he’d been a few months ago. Grace didn’t bother responding, looking instead towards her left where a man who Steve instantly recognized as Fred Doran came crashing through the narrow path, pushing people and stalls out of his way.

“He’s dead, Doran’s dead, this has already happened,” Steve said as he saw himself come running after him as Doran took a woman hostage, the exact same scenario as the first time around playing out in front of his eyes, except he had a different vantage point. “What, you done being the Ghost of Christmas Future, now it’s time for you to show me my past?”

Like the first time around, he saw himself hold up his gun in the air as Doran threatened to kill the woman even as he tried to reason with Doran that it was Hesse he wanted not him; he saw Doran shift his gun away from the woman to point it at Steve, his finger tightening on the trigger, a gunshot piercing through the air.

Except for this time, the gunshot was not preceded by the sound of shattering glass as Danny shot through the car window to hit Doran in the back before he could shoot Steve.

This time, Doran fired, and despite his younger self trying to move out of the way, the bullet caught Steve straight in the chest, blood spreading immediately across his white shirt as he fell to his knees, the sounds of people screaming and dogs barking filling the air as they ran from the scene, in fear for their own lives.

Out of the corner of the eye, Steve saw Doran push the woman to the side, and jump into the truck and drive away with not even a final glance at the man he’d just shot, but Steve’s focus was on his dying self as he tried to press his hands against the hole in his chest, trying vainly to put pressure against the blood pumping out with every slowing beat of his heart.

Except he was losing too much blood, too quickly, and Steve could do nothing but watch as he saw himself collapse on the ground, his eyes looking up at the sky even as his uneven gasps broke the silence of their surroundings, not one person coming to help him.

And no Danny to the rescue.

“Where is he?” Steve asked, his voice toneless as he saw himself struggle to reach for the phone in his pocket except his strength was draining from him as blood pooled undeath his body in an ever-growing circle.

“After going by HPD and getting the case file, you never went by his apartment. You used his notes to track down Doran by yourself bvfcds.” Grace’s voice was quiet, and they watched in silence as Steve gasped his last few breaths in front of them, his eyes staring unfixed at the cloudless sky as he died alone, a mere handful of minutes after being shot.

It was a strange feeling, watching himself die, and Steve was eager to move on from this moment, turning to the woman next to him with an eyebrow raised in expectation.

Except Grace was in no hurry to move them along, and soon enough the place was crawling with HPD uniforms, yellow tape and flashing lights and the hum of an active crime scene fading to the background as Steve just stared at his lifeless body, lost in thought.

“Oh God.” The muttered epithet brought Steve back to the present, and his heart clenched as he saw the familiar shape of Danny make his way over, coming to a crouch over Steve’s lifeless body. The past few months of working with the man meant that Steve was easily able to read the upset in his eyes.

“You idiot,” Steve heard Danny whisper. “You should have trusted me to find your dad’s killer. Or at least taken me with you, I would have watched your back.”

Danny continued to stare down at Steve’s body for another minute before glancing over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching as he reached out and brushed his hand over Steve’s face, a gentle motion that closed Steve’s eyelids, allowing him the illusion of peace in death.

“Williams!” A man called out and Danny got up and turned to face him, but stayed at Steve’s side. A man in an HPD uniform, ‘Tanaka’ on the name tag on his chest, walked up to Danny and looked down at Steve’s body, the disinterested expression of a man who’d seen too many bodies in his lifetime and couldn’t work up the emotional energy anymore for anyone.

“This him?”

“Yes, sir. Lieutenant Commander Steve McGarrett,” Danny replied before pausing for a moment. “John’s son.”

“He got a wife? Kids?”

“Uh, no, he didn’t.”

“Silver lining. At least he didn’t leave anyone behind.” For some reason, that hurt more than watching himself die, and Steve was glad that Danny glared at the other man as he couldn’t, not that Tanaka noticed. “We know who did this?”

“Fred Doran, sir, the man I put a trace on this morning. I’ll get his photo out, he’s not getting off this island,” Danny replied, the certainty in his voice causing Steve to smile slightly, recognizing the same determination with which Danny had come to him just a day earlier when he’d asked Steve if Five-O could investigate Meka’s death.

The memory of where he and Danny had left things earlier made the smile fade from Steve’s face, making him focus once again on the conversation in front of him instead.

“-on to Kaleo, it’s not your problem anymore.”

“Sir?”

“What did you expect? I put you on the case of the murder of a veteran police officer and you end up getting his son killed? The governor is going to be pissed; the press would love this - tragic story of a decorated officer killed trying to avenge his hero father - and it’ll make HPD look bad. I can’t have you on this case anymore.”

“This wasn’t Danny’s fault,” Steve said as he felt Grace step closer to him, a heavy pit forming in his stomach as he saw the expression on Danny’s face, the guilt that didn’t belong there, the argument he was clearly biting back because he couldn’t risk the wrath of his boss, not when he needed the job to stay on the island for his daughter. It gave him an ounce of comfort to know that with Steve, Danny did not hold back, did not bite his tongue out of fear of losing his job, and therefore his ability to be with Grace.

“I know.”

“What happens after?”

Grace sighed. “With you dead, there’s no Five-O. Chin never gets his badge back. Kono struggles in HPD despite her clear potential because of her connection to him. Danny stays with HPD and keeps investigating your father’s case on his own. He manages to track down Doran but as for Victor Hesse,” Grace paused for a moment. “Despite no support from HPD Danny gets really close to tracking him down but…”

“But what?” Steve’s eyes closed automatically as he felt Grace’s hand come to rest on his shoulder, but he immediately regretted opening his eyes.

They were in a cemetery, standing in front of a freshly installed gravestone which read:

DANNY WILLIAMS

BELOVED SON, BROTHER & FATHER

March 10, 1976 - November 8th, 2010.

“No.” The word was punched out of Steve’s chest and he fell to his knees and placed his hand on top of the smooth stone, running his fingers over the embossed lettering, tracing the name he never wanted to see on a grave. As his fingers traced the ‘2010’, his hand shook.

“This date…”

“With you dead and Five-O never coming into existence, Danny never left HPD so Meka asked for his help. It wasn’t just Meka’s body that was found in the luau. Cage investigated, made a solid case that they were both dirty cops which got them killed. Danny’s family had his body flown out to Jersey and had him buried here. They never found out the truth of who killed Danny and why.”

“What about Gracie?” Steve asked, trying to keep his voice steady even as he felt tears come to his eyes at the notion of that little girl losing her precious Danno at such a young age.

“Rachel and Stan didn’t want Grace growing up under the stigma of a dirty cop for a father. They changed her last name, cut off all ties to Danny’s family.”

“Danny’s not a dirty cop. He could never be,” Steve yelled, his hand thumping against the gravestone, ignoring the flash of pain it caused.

“Who was gonna clear his name?” Grace argued, a challenge in her voice. “His only friend on the island died with him.”

“But this _doesn’t_ happen,” Steve countered. “I go to his apartment, make him my partner, he watches my back, Doran doesn’t kill me.” Steve’s mind took him back to that day, reliving the memory as it truly happened, and he felt shame, his voice softer as he added: “I yelled at him for killing Doran, blamed him for shooting my only lead at catching Hesse.”

“Yes. You did.”

“So what?” asked Steve. “My mind is trying to get me to see that I should be nicer to Danny? Accept that he has my back always so I should have his? Is that it?”

"Are you sure you're Danny's partner? Because if you're really as thick as you are coming across right now, it's a wonder he hasn't brained you yet."

"Danny loves being my partner, we get along great," Steve argued.

"Oh yeah? I wouldn't be so sure about that," Grace replied, waving her hand in front of Steve's face who flinched, expecting to suddenly be in the middle of another country with explosions and gunfire surrounding him.

Except nothing changed. They were still in the same graveyard.

"What, has your mojo stopped working?" Steve sneered, but Grace continued to look at him, unimpressed. "Why are you looking at me like that? Nothing's changed."

"Hasn't it?"

Steve was about to respond with a sassy comment except his eyes landed on Danny's gravestone again, something he had been avoiding looking at, except it only took a moment for him to realize that although most of the words carved in the stone remained the same, there was one crucial change:

Instead of 8th November 2010, the date of Danny’s death now read 6th February 2012.

"What- what's this? What changed?" Steve’s hand once again traced the date on Danny’s grave, his fingers digging into the groove that made up the last number.

"You started Five-O, became partners with Danny, Meka still died. Danny was able to clear Meka’s name but he did it on his own, with some help from Chin and information from Sang Min. But the fact that you hadn't had his back drove a wedge between the two of you. Your partnership didn't ever recover and become what it could have been. Five-O didn't even make it a year before it was dismantled by the new Governor."

"But why? We have a great closure rate, crime numbers are down because of us and it’s only been a few months.”

"There were some events which broke you all apart because you couldn't be there for each other. Long story short, Rachel and Danny ended up giving it a second go and he got her pregnant, they moved back to Jersey with Grace and had a son. You got falsely accused of murdering the Governor soon after he left and Danny wasn't around to get your name cleared.”

"Even if Danny wasn't around, what about Chin and Kono?"

"Kono was suspended, pending investigation, because of some stuff that happened with Five-O. Chin was appointed Lieutenant by HPD after his name was cleared and he tried to help you but his hands were tied. In any case, you got shanked in prison, you didn’t even make it a whole week on the inside. Danny blamed himself, for not being there, for not having your back, even though things weren’t great between you.”

“You’re still not telling me how _this_ happened, which is what I want to know,” Steve replied, his hand still tracing the new date as though he could rub it out of existence if he tried hard enough.

“A few months after Charlie was born, Danny's training officer, who Danny put in prison, got out and went looking for revenge. He kidnapped Grace; Danny sacrificed himself trying to get her back.”

Steve tried to swallow past the lump in his throat at the thought of the pain his partner would have felt if his daughter had been in the hands of a criminal hell-bent on punishing Danny. It didn’t surprise him that Danny would have died for Gracie, he just wished he could have been there to prevent it somehow.

Steve shook his head, jerking his hand back from the gravestone. It _wouldn’t_ happen - this was some random alternative future that Grace was talking about; it would not be _his_ future, it definitely would not be _Danny’s_ future.

“So the moral of the story is what? If Danny and I don’t sort our shit out, he and I both end up dead? Is that it?”

Grace shook her head. “It’s right in front of you, and you’re still avoiding the obvious answer.” She sighed and for some reason, Steve was reminded of Danny whenever he thought Steve was being purposefully dense. “I’m giving you one last chance.”

“One last chance at _what?”_ Steve demanded to know, except without any effort on his part his eyes closed.

For a long moment, he refused to open them, afraid of what he’d see, what his mind had conjured up this time because he was still mostly convinced this was an elaborate drunken dream, for all it didn’t feel like one. He could hear the rattle of chains, some heavy breathing and finally, his curiosity got the better of him.

Only to see a blood-soaked Danny with his hands shackled to chains above his head.

“Oh God, Danny,” Steve exhaled, scoping out the room he was in, glad they were alone for the moment, his eyes taking in the clear signs of the beating his partner had suffered.

Except Danny wasn’t listening, his gaze fixed on the chains that bound him, his breathing deep and calm. Before Steve could do anything to even try and help his partner, Danny leapt up and grasped the chains, using them like a climbing rope to reach up towards the thick metal pipe which had a hook bolted into it from which the chains were attached.

“Check you out, partner. You’ve been holding out on me, buddy!” Steve breathed out, a grin overtaking his features as Danny swung his legs up to wrap around the metal pipe so he could unhook his chains from the pipe before leaping down, his movements confident and controlled. “I knew those biceps weren’t just for show!”

“Shit, someone’s coming,” Steve warned as he heard something in the corridor but Danny was already hiding behind the door as a man in a suit entered, pausing as he observed the unexpectedly empty space, his eyes not seeing Steve at all.

Steve watched in glee as Danny crept out from behind his hiding place and took down the man with a swing of his chains before finding a key to unlock the shackles from around his wrists. “Come on, partner, let’s keep moving.” He was about to call out another warning except Danny already had the first man’s gun in his hand, shooting the second before he got off a shot.

“You’re doing great buddy, I’ve got your back,” Steve said in encouragement as though Danny could hear him, walking just behind Danny as his partner took down a third and fourth man, his use of bullets efficient but effective - those men would not be getting up again . “Where the hell is the team?” Steve wondered aloud as he followed Danny up the stairs, looking behind them to make sure no one was going to come after Danny in his blindspot.

It was an error that cost them both: a lone gunshot pierced the air, Steve turning his head just in time to see a red circle appear high on Danny’s back as his partner’s body jerked back with the force of the bullet passing through his flesh.

“Danny, no!” Steve yelled, reaching out to catch his partner as he fell, knowing that like before he would be unable to do anything, yet surprised beyond measure when he felt the weight of his partner in his arms as they both stumbled to the ground, Danny’s head and shoulders coming to a rest in Steve’s lap.

“Danno…,” Steve whispered, one hand going to the side of Danny’s face as the other reached for the bullet-wound in his partner’s chest, applying pressure. He could feel the warm blood leaking from the bullet-hole in Danny’s back as it soaked into Steve’s pants, a sick feeling in his stomach at the familiar but unwelcome sensation. It wouldn’t be the first time he had provided first aid to a man gunned down, but this time it felt different. It was Danny in his arms, bleeding out - not a fellow soldier or sailor, not a stranger, but _Danny_. “You’re gonna be okay, buddy, I’m gonna wake up and you’re gonna be okay,” he promised, his thumb stroking Danny’s cheek.

He didn’t expect a response, except not only did Danny’s eyes open and make contact with Steve, a soft smile creased his face and Danny’s right hand came up to pat Steve on the cheek, his fingers slow and lacking their normal grace as they traced the skin at the corner of Steve’s eye. “I get kidnapped and you go for Botox, babe?”

Steve huffed, a smile appearing on his face despite his best intentions. “Looks like you could use some yourself, buddy,” he replied, his fingers lightly touching the wrinkles at the corner of Danny’s eye, a frown on his face as he began to trace over the cut on Danny’s lip, the bruising and gash on Danny’s forehead and left eyebrow which had bled heavily enough to cover half his face in crimson.

“You try working with you for ten years and not age, McGarrett.” Steve’s heart thumped in his chest. Ten years? This Danny had stood by him for ten whole years? His Danny couldn’t wait to get off the island, but he’d been around for a _decade?_ “Look at me - I used to be beautiful,” Danny added, his voice taking on a breathy note as he moved his head slightly to press into Steve’s hand.

“You’re still beautiful, Danno,” Steve said as he brushed his fingers against the shaved side of Danny’s head, enjoying the soft texture. “I’ll get you a gold medal with that Botox as a ten-year anniversary gift, how about that?” Steve offered, even as he began looking around to see if there was a phone in the room, ignoring Danny’s groan as he pressed harder against the wound, unimpressed by the steady flow of blood he could feel leaking from under his fingers, with no sign of abatement. “I’m sorry, Danny, I should never have let this happen.”

"Not your fault, babe," Danny muttered, his hand grabbing Steve's hand from where it was continuing its caress, Steve’s thumb going back and forth across the shaved side of his head. "Her fault, okay? Not yours."

"Who did this, Danny? Give me a name." Because if Steve had to tattoo the fucking name on his chest so that he never forgot it so he could prevent this from happening in real life, he would.

“Not your fault,” Danny repeated, and Steve’s worry jumped up a notch as his partner’s words began to slur and Danny's eyes were taking on a look that Steve had seen on too many faces during his time in the service, on brothers-in-arms who were toeing the all-important line between life and death.

“Stay with me, buddy, keep talking,” Steve urged but Danny’s eyes rolled up into the back of his head and he lost consciousness, his hand dropping to the ground with a thump.

Steve scrambled to find the pulse in Danny’s neck, relieved when he felt a light thump against his fingers. Although he continued to keep pressure on the wound, he started looking around the room. “Grace? I’ve seen enough, let’s go, where’s next? Come on, time to go,” he pleaded, his gaze returning to the growing pool of blood underneath Danny despite his best efforts.

Except Grace wasn’t in the room, for once not a shadow to his presence in this dreamworld.

The sounds of sirens and lights filtered cut through the silence and Steve tensed, gripping Danny harder as though he could keep his partner safe that way.

“About fucking time,” he snarled when he saw an older version of himself appear in the doorway, except he wasn’t heard - not that it deterred him. “Where the fuck have you been?” He shouted, unmoved by the look of devastation on his other self’s face even as he knelt next to Danny and rubbed his knuckles on his collarbone, both of them relieved when Danny groaned in response, a clear indication he was still with them.

"Oh God, Danno," Steve murmured as his older self ripped the bottom of Danny's ruined shirt to form a bandage for the bullethole, the shirt revealing enough of his partner’s abdomen for Steve to see a long thin vertical scar, clearly a few years old but still evident enough of major surgery. "You did end up giving me your liver."

It was with extreme reluctance that Steve allowed his older self to pull Danny out of his grip as he placed Danny's arm around his shoulder and lifted him up, Steve helping out by taking some of Danny's weight, both driven by the need to get Danny of out this place where he’d been made to experience so much pain. He followed them both into the back of a red truck as a woman he didn’t recognize drove them to the hospital, Danny’s torso cradled in his other self’s arms even as Steve kept a firm grip on Danny’s hand.

“How the fuck could you let this happen?” Steve yelled at himself after he called into the hospital to ensure they were ready for Danny. “You’re his partner, what happened to watching his fucking back?” His words were ignored, not that he expected any better, only taking a little bit of comfort in the slight sheen in his other self’s eyes, the look of devastation on his face.

Once at the hospital, Steve made to follow Danny’s gurney into the treatment area even as the other him was stopped, but he found himself unable to follow, stopped by what felt like an invisible barrier.

“Let me go with him!” He yelled, banging his fist against the doors as Danny disappeared from sight. Ignored, he turned to find another outlet for his raging emotions.

“You!” He seethed, walking up to where his older self is slumped against the wall, watched wearily by people in bullet-proof vests, none of whom he recognized except the tall black man who’d helped pull Steve out from the plane crash. “You call yourself his _partner_? Where the fuck were you?”

His words fell on dear ears but it didn’t deter him from following as his other self turned away from the team and walked away, his steps sure as he went down one corridor, then another, and then another, his steps heavy even as Steve continued his tirade, an outlet even as he is ignored. It’s only when Steve stepped through the doorway into what is clearly the hospital chapel did his words fail. Silent, surprised, he followed his older self to one of the pews at the front, taking a seat in the pew in front of him so he could see his face.

For the longest time, he did nothing except sit there, elbows on his knees, hands clasped together and for the first time since Grace walked into the bar, Steve had time to just sit, and think. Even as he worried with each passing second that somewhere in the hospital Danny was fighting a losing battle against death, another part of him took comfort in the knowledge that this was not reality, it _couldn’t_ be - he couldn’t ever let this happen. But whether this was a drunken dream or a hallucination, or a vision from some possible future or whatever, Grace had wanted him to see these specific events.

But no matter how hard he tried, he could think of any reason beyond perhaps an acknowledgment that he’d been too hard on Danny - for all his complaining and grousing, Danny had watched his back from day one, and for all that he’d accused of Danny not being able to think objectively when investigating the death of his ex-partner, Steve admired the loyalty Danny had displayed - the same loyalty that must have brought Danny to North Korea and the Middle East to save Steve’s ass on more than one occasion. That same bull-headedness that had often sent Steve around the bend was what made Danny land the plane on the beach rather than in the water, even though he risked dying himself.

And Steve couldn’t even begin to wrap his mind around the possibility that Danny would give up part of his liver for him.

Is that what all of this was - a lesson to be a better partner to Danny? A realization that their lives were entwined together, dependent on each other for survival whether they liked it or not?

His thoughts were interrupted by a motion by his older self who raised his head and looked up at the front of the chapel, eyes fixed on the crucifix.

“You wanna take somebody?” Steve had never heard his voice sound like that, as though he’d been swallowing glass shards. “You take me. Not him, you take me.”

And the conclusion that Steve had been searching for was suddenly clear to him.

“Do you understand now?” He jerked at the voice, tearing his eyes away from his older self to where Grace is standing. She must have read the answer on his face because a new expression appeared on her face, almost akin to a look of sympathy if he didn’t know any better.

“It’s time to go,” she said, her hand reaching for Steve except he jerked back.

“No, not yet, I gotta know what happens to Danny.” Because if this really was the future he was witnessing, one in which he and Danny ended up being partners for ten years, that he had to know that it didn’t end with Danny dead. He couldn’t wait ten years to find out if he’d let his partner down when he needed Steve most.

“We don’t have time,” Grace insisted, unmoved.

“I don’t care,” Steve replied, getting up and creating distance between them. “I _have_ to know he’s gonna be okay.”

Grace was undeterred, following him at a slow pace, the pace of someone who knew they were going to win no matter how fast you ran. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Why?” A horrible thought entered Steve’s mind. “Am I not going to remember this?”

“Not all of it,” Grace replied. “Not enough.”

“So what was the point of all this?”

“The point is the way you’re feeling now? The way you’ve felt throughout this? That’s not going to be as easy to let go,” Grace explained, a soft smile on her face.

Except her answer wasn’t enough for Steve, he couldn’t gamble Danny’s life on a _feeling._ “Wai-”

Steve’s protests proved useless as his eyes closed of their own accord but almost immediately he opened them as he felt his stomach start to rebel. Sitting up, he covered his mouth with his hand even as he recognized his room. Throwing himself out of bed and stumbling through the bathroom door, he crashed to his knees in front of the toilet, just in time to throw up what felt like an entire stomach-full of liquid, the alcohol burning as it made its way back up his throat. Coughing, he spat into the basin to clear his mouth of the last of it, wiping the back of his hand against his mouth as he slumped against the wall, one hand reaching up to flush the toilet.

His chest heaving, he looked around the darkened room, and through to his bedroom. He could just about make out the rustled sheets on his bed as a result of the dim moonlight filtering in through the open window. He was back home, and the house was dark and quiet.

Covering his face with his hand, he tried to remember how he got back but there was a blank in his memory. He remembered the tense discussion about Meka over the tech table, Danny walking out of the office with Chin following a few minutes later. He remembered sending Kono home for the night and then finding an out of the way bar where he could just about guarantee not running into anyone he knows, or who would recognize him.

And he remembered a woman sitting down next to him, at the bar, but the details were fuzzy.

What was not fuzzy was how he felt. And it was making him crave the ocean, the one place that was predictable and reliable if you knew how to read the signs. The ocean always made sense to Steve, even when all other aspects of his life didn’t.

Standing up, Steve rinsed his mouth and brushed his teeth, his reflection in the mirror showing him dressed in the same clothes as the day before. Chucking his shirt and pants into the laundry hamper, he grabbed a pair of swim shorts from the dresser and his phone from where it lay on his bedside table before making his way downstairs, across the lanai, and headfirst into the ocean.

Whenever anything upset his balance, he would find redress in the ocean. With each stroke taking him further and further away from land, flashes, images began appearing in his mind’s eye in no discernible order or relevance. A yellow dress. A forest. The blades of a propellor plane. Danny. Danny. Danny.

When he got a flash of a Danny covered in blood, cradled in his lap, looking much older but no less beautiful, Steve stalled in his swimming, treading water as he looked at the horizon, orange and pink rays of the sunrise lighting the sky. Without a conscious decision, he turned around and started swimming towards shore, driven by a feeling made up of fragments which yet did not fully encompass the whole:

Upset. Confusion. Happiness. All underscored by a desperate need to see Danny, right _now_.

As he got closer to the shore, he saw someone standing by the wooden chairs that he and Danny sat on during the first case they worked together, and Steve couldn’t help the momentary spark in his chest at the thought that it was Danny, still here to pick him up for their normal carpooling arrangement despite their disagreement the night before.

However, the rational part of his brain told him that not only was it too early for Danny to be dropping by, but the body shape of the person on shore also was completely different, and the sun wasn’t glinting off the blond hair of his partner's.

Soon enough it became obvious that it wasn’t _his_ partner waiting for him, but his dad's old partner.

"What are you doing here?" Steve asked even as he accepted the towel handed to him with a nod, his voice rough and just a shade away from rude.

"And aloha to you too, brah," Chin replied with a smile which disappeared as Steve just continued looking at him. "Just checking up on you, thought I’d give you a lift into the office."

"Danny’s gonna do that, you know that Chin.”

"He can’t today. He’s the one who asked me to fill in, actually. No offense brah, but you live on the opposite side of the office for me.”

"He asked you to? Why can’t he?" Steve asked, a funny feeling in his stomach at the break in a routine that they’d established from the very beginning to the point where Steve always unlocked his front door in the morning and made extra coffee, despite the many times he’d told Danny that he didn’t need to come in, he only needed to use his horn to let Steve know he’d arrived. Apparently drinking Steve’s coffee was Danny’s way of evening the odds as he tended to be the one to provide the beers.

Chin shrugged, his face giving nothing away. "I had a drink with him last night. He said he had somewhere to be the first thing this morning, asked me if I’d swing by instead.”

“Last night, huh? You met up with him after he left the office?” Steve knew his team was tight, that Kono had been giving Danny surfing lessons some mornings, but he hadn’t heard Chin and Danny hanging out on their own before. What free time Danny had was either wholly dedicated to Grace, or with Steve when Steve suggested they do something, usually on a non-Grace weekend. Once in a while, Danny mentioned dinner with Meka and his wife Amy, and their son Billy but Steve knew it wasn’t as often an occurrence as when Danny was with HPD, his schedule with 5-0 keeping him busier than before.

Except there would no longer be any dinners with Meka.

“I didn’t want him to think he was alone in this,” Chin replied, his expression shifting just enough for Steve to get that the older man hadn’t agreed with him regarding how the evidence made Meka look.

“You got something on your mind, Chin Ho? Say it,” Steve grit out.

Chin shrugged. “You forget I know exactly how stubborn McGarrett men are, Steve, I know my saying anything isn’t gonna change your mind in any way.”

“But?”

“But last night made me wish that out of all the excellent cops I’ve worked with over the years, I wished Danny had been my partner when I got accused of being dirty. And I know that if he had been? My name wouldn’t have been dragged through the mud the way it was, I would still have been with HPD.” Chin paused, fixing Steve with a look that reminded him for all that he was technically Chin’s boss, the other man had been doing this job when Steve was still running around a football field trying to impress his old man. “And if Five-O isn’t the place for Danny, then it definitely isn’t the place for me.”

Steve nodded, pursing his lips as he looked down at the towel in his hands.

“I need you to drop me off somewhere on the way to the office.”

* * *

“... so I had Chin drop me off at Halawa. I figured your next move would’ve been to ask Sang Min about the mole in HPD. And when we talked, and you asked me if I’d believe it if you were dirty if someone showed me a stack of evidence suggesting it… I couldn’t explain it then, but I was so sure you could never be that way.”

“Because of the… dreams?” Danny tried his hardest to keep the skepticism out of his voice, not when Steve’s face throughout had been a journey in emotion and earnestness. He’d kept a hold on Danny’s waist through the story, as though afraid that at any given moment Danny would leap off the counter and run away from him.

Except at Steve's nod, Danny did not leap off the counter and run away from Steve. Instead, he put his palms on Steve's chest and _pushed,_ causing the other man to stumble back a few steps, confusion and hurt overtaking his features which did nothing to detract from Danny's anger.

"So you fucking _knew_ North Korea would be a shitshow and you went _anyway_? What, you were testing me, is that it? See if I'd come running after you like in your dream?"

Danny made to leap off the counter, his body thrumming with repressed anger, except Steve was too quick, resuming his position in front of Danny, hands firm on his hips to keep him in place. It took a lot for Danny to allow it, to not create space between them again.

"What? No, Danny, no, I swear,” Steve said, words falling out his mouth as his hands gripped Danny around his wrists. “I didn’t remember the dreams then, if you wanna call them dreams. All I had that day, and for a long time after, was that I could trust you, that you would always, _always_ , have my back.” Steve gentled his hold on Danny when he felt a bit of tension leave his partner’s body. “And it’s not like I didn’t trust you before that night; this was just different. And I wasn’t used to that feeling, especially with everything that happened with Nick Taylor right after.”

“But you remember them now,” Danny stated, not bothering to make it a question considering all that he’d been told. It had quite possibly the longest length of time he’d ever heard his partner speak.

"Yeah. But even before I remembered them, I would just get this really strong feeling of _wrong_ at times."

"What do you mean?" Danny tensed again as a guilty look appeared in his partner's eyes.

"I, uh, I had a feeling that North Korea was gonna go wrong. That it wasn't as straightforward as Jenna was making it out to be. But I owed her, I couldn't say no to her. I would have gone even I _had_ remembered the dreams then."

"And why, pray tell, would you have done that?" Danny bit out, his hands fisting themselves in Steve’s shirt, pulling his idiot of a partner closer to him. "You didn't owe her anything."

"I owed her your life, Danny,” Steve replied, his face open and earnest and how was Danny supposed to stay mad at him when he had that look on his face? It would be like being angry with a puppy, albeit a highly trained, deadly puppy. “She's the one who figured out that you'd been exposed to sarin; her knowledge meant the doctors were able to save you. If we'd had to wait for CDC to figure it out, you wouldn't have made it."

Danny sighed, slumping in Steve's hold at the memory of the fear that he had read on Steve's face that day as he had felt his lungs tighten, his breath seize in his chest - he’d never seen his partner look so afraid, and it had made him feel strange that it was because of _Danny_ that he looked that way. Whilst he was grateful that Jenna had saved his life, he couldn't help but feel guilty that it had meant Steve had let himself be taken by Wo Fat and tortured because of it, even if he wasn’t entirely sure what he’d been letting himself in for when he’d agreed to go.

"It was me who owed her, not you, Steve. You shouldn't have gone."

"In saving your life, she also saved mine, Danno," Steve replied, a bashful look on his face that was rare in its appearance. "Besides, I knew it would work out in the end, I had a feeling, even if I couldn't explain it, and not just with North Korea."

"What are you talking about?”

"Like with the Governor, being arrested. I knew you'd get me out. And then when you told me that Rachel said the baby wasn't yours, I just - at first I thought maybe that feeling I had was me feeling bad for you, because I know how much you wanted it to be yours."

Danny frowned as he thought back to a year ago. "You pushed me to get a paternity test. We fought over it, one of the worst fights we've ever had, and we weren’t even together then. It was because of these dreams?"

Steve nodded. "The bad feeling was there the whole time Rachel was pregnant, but then seeing him born, you telling me that his name was Charlie… it rang a bell, even though I didn't know why or how. So I stole a sample of Charlie's DNA from the hospital and had Max compare it to yours - I wasn't gonna get your hopes up only to be proved wrong so I pushed you about it only when I was sure he was yours."

Just when Danny thought he couldn't love the man in front of him anymore. "Thank you, Steve," he said, sincerity underlying the simple words. "God knows how long Rachel would have kept Charlie for me if you hadn't pushed."

"Anything to make you happy, Danno."

"But you said you had a feeling, you didn't actually _know._ But you know now. When did that change, when did you start remembering the dreams?”

Steve hesitated for a moment, causing Danny to rub his partner’s stomach gently, the shirt soft underneath his hands, but the muscles tight and well-defined. “I started remembering the moment you found me in North Korea.”

Danny frowned, not liking to be reminded of the fear and anxiety and stress the memory stirred up - Jenna’s death and betrayal, Steve so far away, the risk of being caught in North Korea and not making it back to Grace, culminating in finding a bloody and bruised Steve in the back of a truck, looking defeated and accepting of his own death - for weeks after, Danny couldn’t go to sleep without seeing the surprise in his partner’s eyes when he’d caught sight of Danny, as though he had no clue that someone, Danny, would come for him.

“So when you saw me, and looked shocked…?” It had hurt Danny deeply, that look on Steve’s face, as though Steve hadn’t expected Danny to have his back, to not do his utmost to save him from his stupidity. He’d thought not going to Jersey after Rachel and Grace so that he could clear Steve’s name and get him out of prison had been evidence enough for Steve to know that Danny would always have his back. It had been a painful lesson to realize that hadn’t been the case, the reason why he’d told Steve to gruffly shut up when Steve had asked him about Wo Fat, why he’d kept a distance from Steve on the helicopter.

“I wasn’t shocked that you would come for me,” Steve replied with a smile, his hand coming up to press against Danny’s cheek as though he could read his partner’s mind. “It was the deja vu, all the memories coming back… it was intense. It’s why I took those few days off once you brought me back home.”

“And here I thought you’d finally listened to doctor’s orders,” Danny replied, pressing his face into Steve’s hand.

Steve smiled, his thumb rubbing back and forth across Danny’s cheek even as his other hand pressed against the small of Danny’s back. “I only take orders from God and the Governor, babe. And you, when you offer the right incentive,” he murmured, dipping the fingers of his hand under Danny’s waistband in a move that Danny had become all too familiar with over the past year.

But Danny was on a mission, not to be deterred. “So is that why you ignored me after North Korea? You wouldn’t answer my calls and only responded to my texts so I knew you were alive. And then you came back to the office as though North Korea never happened.”

Steve sighed, pulling his hands away and resting them on Danny’s sides, enjoying the feel of his chest rising and falling with each breath.

“It was hard, babe. Not only did I have to deal with the fact that you, Mr. Rules and Procedures, had risked going to jail, being taken away from Grace, to go on an unauthorized mission to North Korea to save my ass, but that I’d seen this happen before, in a dream. And that I’d also dreamed you saving my ass in the Middle East, landing a plane on a beach to give me a chance to live and then also donate your liver? But the worst was remembering that I’d seen you get shot; for days, I couldn’t get rid of the feeling of you bleeding out under my hands. Of knowing there may come a day when you’ll be badly hurt but I’ll be too late, I’ll let you down.”

Danny couldn’t help but react to the upset he could hear in his partner’s voice, his hand grabbing Steve by the back of his neck and pulling him forward into a deep kiss, trying to express without words that dream or not, he couldn’t ever imagine Steve letting Danny down.

After a minute, Danny broke the kiss, pulling back but keeping a hand around the back of Steve’s neck. "You went from ignoring me to grabbing me and kissing me. Did the dreams have something to do with that as well?"

A look of guilt overtook Steve's features and Danny steeled himself for a confession that he may not like.

"I'm sorry to bring it up but… Petersen."

"What about him?" Danny asked, forcing down the anxiety and feeling of helplessness that flooded his chest at the memory of that man and what he’d done.

"When he had you... when Chin and I were chasing you all over the island... I remembered Grace telling me that had you gone back to Jersey with Rachel, your ex-partner would have gotten out of prison and killed you. I should have realized he'd still be a threat to you no matter where you were living - I could have prevented all of that if I'd been smarter about it. But I didn’t and I put you and Gracie at risk because of it.”

“Steve, come on. What Petersen did, that’s on him, and on me. No, listen to me,” Danny pressed his finger to Steve’s lips when his partner’s mouth opened to voice a protest. “You know I have no qualms blaming you for anything and everything so trust me when I say that you have _no_ blame in what happened, okay? Even if you’d seen it all happen in real-time high definition with surround sound, it _wasn’t_ your fault.” Danny pulled his hand away when Steve gave a tight nod, knowing he hadn’t fully absolved Steve’s guilt, but done enough that he wouldn’t argue with Danny over it. “But you feeling guilty over it still doesn’t explain why you suddenly decided to stop dancing around the elephant in the room and take a risk by kissing me.”

It had been the last thing on Danny’s mind, that night about six months ago, when Steve had appeared on his doorstep with a steely determined look on his face. It had made Danny reach for his gun and badge, thinking they’d caught a case, but instead, Steve had put his hand on Danny’s chest and pushed him backward until his back had met the wall. His mouth had opened to ask Steve whether he’d been possessed by a demon or something because out of the two of them Danny had always been the touchier one, although Steve had come leaps and bounds in the time since they’d partnered up. But he’d never done this, and it had surprised Danny.

But nothing had surprised Danny more than when Steve had simply let his actions speak for him, a spark in his eyes underscored by worry lines around his mouth as he’d leaned in and covered Danny’s lips with his. It had been a soft kiss, a simple one more akin to those shared by teenagers just starting out their journey of discovery, but there’d be no denying that Danny’s heart had started beating rapidly, which Steve must have felt as his hand had remained on Danny’s chest throughout.

It had been welcomed, evidenced by the fact that only a few months later Danny was moving in with Steve, but it had been unanticipated.

“Steve?” Danny pressed when he didn’t receive a response.

“I, uh, I thought we’d have more time,” Steve replied and Danny had to restrain himself from rolling his eyes at the cryptic response.

“More time?”

“You and me. In the last dream, you mentioned us working together for ten years. But then the sarin attack happened before we even made it a full year, and you were so close, Danno, I don’t think you’ve ever fully realized how close you came.”

Danny shrugged, accepting the comment. He had very little memory of the whole thing, having lost consciousness even before Steve had returned to his side after checking on the body, let alone the ambulance ride and doctors working on him in the ER. The burden of the memory of that near-death experience lay fully on Steve since Danny had only been awake in his hospital room for an hour before Steve had arrived with Grace in tow, and even though his body had ached, he’d had much worse injuries before. Any comfort Danny planned on offering was lost as Steve continued.

“And then with Petersen, which happened after I remembered, I freaked out, because you know, just because I dreamt of us years from now didn’t mean it _had_ to happen. And I started doubting myself, the dreams, even though I’d written down all the details I could remember, in case I forgot. But I realized that the point of the dreams wasn’t for me to prevent those things from happening, even though obviously I’m not gonna let you get hurt if I can prevent it, it was something else.”

“Which was?”

“That no matter what, I need you in my life, Danno. I thought Grace was trying to show me that you were a great partner who’d always have my back, that I’d end up dead without you, but that wasn’t it. I realized what her plan was when I saw myself in that chapel.”

“You’ve always been more religious, or spiritual, than me babes, what with the whole spirits of the ancestors thing. Surely you being in a chapel isn’t that surprising?”

“You’re an idiot sometimes, you know that?” Steve’s smile was fond and Danny couldn’t help but return it, his own smile fading when Steve’s expression changed into something more serious. “But it’s not that. It’s the fact that no matter what shit I saw in the Navy, the people and friends I’ve seen die, even when Hesse had my dad at gunpoint - I’d never begged for someone’s life that way I saw myself beg for yours. But even more than that, I wasn’t surprised that I did, even though I’d only known you for less than a year at that point, and the other me had known you for ten. So even though I didn’t know how prescient my dreams were, what I didn’t doubt what was no matter what the future brought, or didn’t bring, whether I’d seen it already or not, I _needed_ you in my life.”

“But how did you know I wouldn’t punch you for kissing me?”

Steve smiled, his eyes hooded as he ripped his neck back to peer down at Danny. It was a look Steve often used when he wanted to come off as sexy and alluring and it annoyed Danny to no end when he discovered that it worked on him just as much on the baristas, both male and female, at their favorite coffee place near the Palace. Probably more so on Danny as it had him reaching for the waistband of Steve's cargo pants, his thumb pressing against the button, and if a barista had tried this on Steve he would have killed them.

"What?" Danny asked, poking a finger in Steve's belly button, smirking when it made the other man jump slightly. "Answer my question."

"I took a calculated risk."

"You calculated, huh? And what did you calculate?"

"That if in my dreams you were willing to give me your liver than maybe in reality, if I played my cards right, you’d give me your heart."

Laughter burst out of Danny for a split second before he reigned it in, realizing a moment too late that Steve was serious, that he had kissed Danny on a whim based on a weird dream he'd had early on in their partnership.

"You are a goofball, babes, but I love you for it. What if I hadn't kissed you back?"

Steve shrugged. "I had a bottle of tequila for both of us in my car. If it went sideways I was gonna get us both blackout drunk so we'd forget what happened."

"Don't get my heart so destroy my liver and kidneys, huh? Sounds like a McGarrett plan," Danny replied, shaking his head, his hands coming away from Steve's waistband to cradle his partner's face. "There's no universe in which I would have said no to you, babe. And I'm glad you took the risk, because I don't think I ever would have. And even if things go south between us one day, _not that I think it will_ ," Danny was quick to add when the tell-tale crinkles between Steve's eyes appeared, heralding Aneurysm Face, "but even if it does, all this," Danny motioned to the stack of mugs he had brought over from his apartment that he seemed worth keeping that were currently next to the sink, "would have been worth it."

"But I can't lose you, Danno. Not now, not years from now. And not to a bullet or because I've been an idiot who made you break up with me."

"Hey!" Danny frowned. "Who said I'd be the one doing the leaving in this hopefully hypothetical scenario?"

"Danny. You are it for me. How can you not see that?"

"Hey, not all of us have had the luxury of having prophetic dreams hosted by our partner's old partner, okay?" Danny argued, although thinking of Grace made the comment bittersweet.

He trusted Steve, more than anyone else on this planet, and he didn't think Steve would make up a story of how he'd been visited by a ghost and taken on a joyride to the apparent future and potential past on the night they'd moved in together as some elaborate joke. But what had stopped Danny from shoving a thermometer in Steve's ear, or rubbing his hands over his partner's head to check for any bumps to explain this break from reality, had been Steve's reaction to Grace's photo.

Because he'd never told Steve about Grace Tilwell - who she had been, what she had meant to Danny, how Danny had let her down.

But if it was all true, if Steve really had been _A Christmas Carol-_ d by Danny's dead partner, then maybe it meant that she was still out there somewhere, still watching Danny's back.

Not blaming Danny for her death, even though it had been a weight he had carried ever since that terrible day.

"Danny." Steve's voice broke through his thoughts, the concern evident even if Danny hadn't known him better than anyone else, dead or alive. "Where'd your mind go?"

"To Grace. I can't believe she showed up to de-Scrooge you."

"I'm glad she did. I wish I'd met her in person."

"I wish you could have too. You both would have driven me into an early grave with your antics. You know she never let me drive either."

"Really? Think that proves the problem lies with you and your driving, buddy, not with me or Grace." Steve bit his bottom lip causing Danny to pull it away from his teeth with his thumb, jerking it away when Steve chose to nip at the invading digit instead. "Did she die before Gracie was born?"

"Yes. When Rachel was four months pregnant."

"You named your daughter after her." It wasn't a question but Danny answered it anyway.

"Yup."

"You loved her."

Danny smiled, bittersweet. "Yes."

Steve nodded, looking away for a moment. "You ever gonna tell me about her?"

"One day, babe. I promise. But not tonight." Danny wrapped his arms around Steve's back, bringing him flush against Danny's chest as he hooked his chin over Steve’s shoulder, one hand moving up to cup the back of Steve’s head. “Tonight is for us. Okay?”

His relief when Steve only nodded was short-lived when he felt his partner’s arms tighten around his waist and he suddenly found himself lifted bodily and carried out of the kitchen, his protestations at being treated like a bride on her wedding night falling on deaf ears.

A few hours later, Danny gently pulled back the thin sheet covering him and Steve, moving as though getting out of bed without waking his partner required a skill akin to defusing a touch-sensitive bomb. Filling a glass with water from the bathroom, he made his way to the upstairs lanai, his muscles pleasantly aching from the activities Steve had dragged him into to properly celebrate the first night of them living together.

Smiling to himself, Danny touched the spot under his ear, one of the many that made up Danny’s hot spots and Steve had lavished attention to all of them as though he was being tested on his knowledge of Danny’s body and he wanted a perfect score.

It was as he was looking out to the ocean, enjoying the fresh breeze that cooled his body, that he noticed movement in his peripheral vision, a flash of yellow that seemed out of place, causing his eyes to dart towards the two deck chairs out on the sand. For a moment, he could have sworn he saw two people sitting in the chairs, people who he had loved and lost and _couldn’t_ be there.

“You know, one of the reasons I asked you to move in with me was so that I _wouldn’t_ wake up to an empty bed.”

The warm body of his partner enveloped him from behind, his back pressed against Steve’s chest as his partner’s arms wound around his waist and his chin hooked over Danny’s shoulder until they were pressed cheek to cheek. Smiling, Danny leaned back into his partner’s solid weight, huffing when he realised his partner was buck naked. At least he’d pulled on his boxers, the boxers that Steve’s fingers were now playing with the waistband of, a sufficient distraction from what Danny thought he’d seen.

“Oh yeah?” Danny murmured, his voice soft to match Steve’s volume. “I thought it was because you hated having to drive by my place so I could get a change of clothes before work most mornings.”

“That too. I had a whole list of reasons.” His partner splayed the palm of one hand on Danny’s bare stomach, his touch light but soothing. “You okay?”

Danny smiled, leaning back into the solid wall that was Steve McGarrett. “Yeah, just needed some water and some fresh air.”

“This isn’t…”

“This isn’t what, babe?”

“This isn’t you having a delayed freak out over what I told you, earlier?” Steve’s tone carried a hint of wariness that belied his next words. “Because it’s okay if you wanna freak out, I’d understand.”

“No, this is not a delayed freak out babe, I promise.”

“Okay,” Steve said, pressing a light kiss under Danny’s ear, before resuming their earlier position, both men looking out towards the horizon.

They stood in place in silence for a few minutes, both enjoying the feel of each other, the quiet that only the middle of the night hours offered when experienced in the safety of home, the sound of the ocean rhythmic and soothing, even though some nights when Danny found the sound aggravating, he would plaster his ear to Steve’s chest so that the sound of his partner’s heartbeat lulled him into sleep.

His mind began to turn again towards what he thought he’d seen, or rather _who_ he had seen, before Steve had joined him on the lanai when he felt his partner’s arms tighten around his chest, an iota of pressure more and Danny was fairly sure he would have felt his ribs creak. “Hey, what’s going through that mind of yours?” He asked, bringing his hand up and scratching his nails against Steve’s scalp even as he kept their position as it was - he knew sometimes Steve found it hard to say what needed to be said face to face.

“What if I hadn’t pulled my head out of my ass, Danno? What if I didn’t meet you at Halawa, that day?”

Danny sighed, knowing that if he said that it wouldn’t have changed things, that he and Steve would have continued being partners even if Danny had had to fight for Meka alone, or with just Chin’s help, Steve would know he was lying.

“What matters is that you _did_ , Steve. You helped me prove Meka’s innocence. And knowing you as much as I do now, I think you would have had my back with or without Grace’s intervention.”

“Really?” Danny bit his lip at the hint of doubt in his partner’s voice, causing him to turn around in his partner’s hold until they were face to face.

“Yes, really,” he replied, his hands cradling his lover’s face as he looked into Steve’s eyes. “Because you’ve had my back since day one, okay? Even when you were getting me shot at, you were also buying me three nights at the Kahala Hotel so Gracie could swim with the dolphins. Even when running after you messed up my ACL, you were getting the Governor involved to let me keep custody of Grace.” Danny’s fingers traced the skin at the corner of Steve’s eyes, ran his fingers over his partner’s lips. “I have never, nor will I ever, doubt you. And we might not share a liver right now, but there’s _nothing_ I wouldn’t do for you. I hope you know that.”

Danny had thought the very first kiss that he and Steve had shared had been the best he would ever experience - a perfect combination of restrained longing unleashed in a single moment with a simple touch. The kiss that followed Danny’s words blew the first kiss out of the water.

**Author's Note:**

> Bonus points if you guess who Danny thought he saw out on the chairs (*not-very-mysterious-smiley*). This story started off as a thought experiment into what were the key moments in Steve and Danny's partnership and exploring the what-if's/different scenarios if things had changed. I've got a half-idea in my mind for a sequel where Freddie's ghost pays a visit to Danny, so watch this space!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed my foray into something new! your kudos/comments mean the world to me. Please do give some love also to my artist, [Arandin](https://neko-roppi.tumblr.com/).


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